Welcome Back
by Wurstoftheitalians
Summary: A year has passed since Ludwig said goodbye to Feliciano at the end of the second world war. But he still can't get the Italian out of his head. Disclaimer: This plays off the last episode of season four, so it could contain spoilers about how certain things go down. It's not that bad but thought I'd rather be safe than sorry and give a little **may contain spoilers** note.


Ludwig slammed his empty beer glass down on the table, satisfied by the thundering sound it made as it brought him out of his thoughts.

It had been a year since the war had ended and he had to say goodbye to Feliciano. Yet it was still fresh in his mind like it had happened only hours before.

Ludwig started on what he believed to be his fourth beer of the night, feeling himself sink deeper and deeper into a depressed stupor that he felt nothing could take him out of.

He never would have thought that he would have liked the Italian. Feliciano was loud, wimpy, and much too affectionate. But despite that they had created a bond- and even more incredulous than that- Ludwig had fallen uncontrollably in love with him.

He thought that the time spent away from Feliciano would make the strain on his heart start to fade; but instead thoughts and memories of him had invade Ludwig's mind, making a dull, ever present pain that wouldn't leave his body no matter how much alcohol he drunk.

"Hey brother!" Gilbert plopped beside him. "You don't look very awesome."

"Go away, I'm not in ze mood," Ludwig downed the glass.

Gilbert put his arm around Ludwig. "Aww, come on. Tell your awesome brother vat is going on in zat head of yours."

"Nothing, I'm fine." He shrugged his brother off.

"It's about zat Italian isn't it?"

Ludwig paused.

Gilbert laughed. "You zink I didn't know? Ludwig, every night since you left zat place you come here und drink too much, zen go home alone. Not to mention you're totally pissy all ze time."

"Mhm." He grabbed another beer.

"Did you have sex vith him?"

That jerked him out of his head. "What?"

"It's a fair question. You're ze brother of ze awesome Prussia, why vouldn't he put out for you? Unless you didn't vant to sleep vith him. . . he does seem a bit too whiney to be your type-"

"Shut up!" Ludwig exploded.

Gilbert smirked. "Touchy."

He sighed. "Nein, ve did not sleep together. Ve never even kissed. Sure he did spend nights in my bed but it vasn't like zat."

Gilbert stared at him. "Why ze hell didn't you just mount him?"

Ludwig gave a disgusted groan at his brother's crude language. But the question stuck with him. If he had told Feliciano how he felt, would the Italian be with him right now?

He didn't want to think about it.

"Why don't you just visit him?" Gilbert inquired.

"If he vanted to see me he vould. Besides, vith ze allies controlling me I doubt I could get away to see him."

"Sounds like excuses," Gilbert commented.

Ludwig growled and drank more beer.

"Maybe he got punished," Gilbert pondered. "What if France or Russia is in charge of him?"

"Are you trying to upset me?" Ludwig glared, blood boiling. He knew what Ivan was capable of- seeing as he was quite proud and flaunting his ownership of Ludwig- and the thought of Ivan even close to Feliciano made him willing to start another war. Then Francis. . . He shuddered.

"I'm trying to tell you ze possibilities." Gilbert laughed. "Upsetting you is just a bonus."

Ludwig stood up. "I'm going home."

"Oh calm down, you're being as hot-headed as China." Gilbert pulled him back down.

Cursting, Ludwig stayed. he didn't want to admit it but he didn't really want to be alone, so even the company of his irritating brother gave him a sense of peace. But that didn't mean that he was just going to sit there and take jokes being made at his expense.

"But zat's not ze only possibility," Gilbert went on, "his older brother, you know, ze one who Spain has a hard on for?"

"Romano." Ludwig sighed. "Ja, he's always hated me. Do you zink zat Italy listened to him?

"Hey, I'm just brainstorming."

Ludwig got quiet.

"Just forget about him. He's really not zat awesome. Find a German man or woman, no more of zese Italians."

"I don't vant anyone else," Ludwig mumbled.

Gilbert stared at him. "You're committed to him."

"Ja," Ludwig blushed. "I am."

"Vell, good luck zere." Gilbert took a swig of his beer.

Ludwig nodded before stumbling to his feet. "I need to go."

"Auf Wiedersehen." Gilbert lifted a hand in farewell.

Ludwig staggered slightly as he walked outside, the nippy winter breeze hitting him square in the chest as he went. It was a short walk to his house, but with all the alcohol it took longer than he had expected.

When he finally did reach the front steps a giant package sat waiting for him. Ludwig thought instantly of when he had first met Feliciano during World War One, where the Italian hid in a box labeled "tomatoes" and Ludwig Stumbled upon him.

Recharged of hope by that memory, Ludwig ripped open the lid of the box, but to his dismay it was just a bunch of paper work- most likely from Ivan- that he would have to deal with.

Ludwig slammed the door behind him, not even bothering to take the box in, and collapsed on the couch.

He avoided his room now, it only reminded him of days where Feliciano would sneak under the covers and sleep beside him.

Ludwig closed his eyes and slipped into oblivion.

Sometime, in the middle of the night, a light rapping was heard against the door. From all of his encounters with war, Ludwig was accustomed to waking at even the slightest sound.

He jumped up, and realizing it wasn't life threatening, clumsily approached the door.

"What ze hell do zey vant. . ." He grumbled groggily, opening the door.

"Umm, hiya, Germany," Feliciano waved his fingers and gave a nervous smile.

Ludwig couldn't speak, he was in absolute disbelief.

"I'm sorry I'm here so late. . . My flight was delayed and I got in later than I meant to. . . But I wanted to see you. . . I just missed you so much. . ." he rambled.

There was so much Ludwig wanted to say to him but nothing would come out. "Come in," he settled with.

Feliciano smiled and sprung in, flinging his suitcase to the side and jumped onto the couch. Instantly, all of Ludwig's loneliness left his mind and he felt whole again.

"How have you been, Germany?" Feliciano questioned, looking upside down at him.

"Umm," Ludwig struggled to not lie as he opened one of the bottles of wine that Feliciano gave him as a going away present- something that he never opened because it reminded him too much of the Italian. "Okay, I guess, nothing super exciting. Und you?"

He shrugged. "Nothing really, it's been boring without you! I miss being in war with you!"

Ludwig rolled his eyes, Feliciano had no concept about how terrifying war could be; nightmares forced him to relive those gruesome scenes. But when Feliciano had slept beside him, the dreams were far and few. Though while he was absent, they came back full force.

"How's Russia?" Feliciano asked softly.

Ludwig handed him the glass of wine trying not to wince, he hated Feliciano knowing that he was just the Russian's glorified toy. "He's vonderful, I'm sure."

"Oh. . ." Feliciano looked down.

"So," he sat down next to the Italian. "You veren't punished vere you?"

Feliciano shook his head. "Not really, no."

"Good." That worry could now be put to rest.

They were quiet as Feliciano drank.

"Why aren't you drinking?" He asked.

"Huh?"

"Where's your beer? You used to drink all the time!"

"Oh," Ludwig rubbed the back of his neck. "Nothing like that, I just drank a lot earlier."

"With Russia?" He quipped.

"Nein," Ludwig eyed him. "Vith Prussia."

"Still! Have a beer with me!" Feliciano rose.

Ludwig grabbed his hand and stopped him. "Italy, it vas more zan one beer, I shouldn't start drinking again."

Besides, he didn't want to be as inebriated as he was earlier with Feliciano in such close proximity.

Reluctantly, Feliciano sat back down and Ludwig didn't move his hand. The soft touch made him smile. It was Feliciano who let go.

Hurt, Ludwig turned away. "So, how's your brother?"

"Romano? Why do you care how he's doing?"

He shrugged. "Just catching up."

"Well, uhh, he's fine. Still mad about my part in the war but since he and Spain have started seeing each other he's not as grumpy!"

"Zey're together?" Ludwig raised an eyebrow.

"Si."

"Hmm. . ." he nodded.

The silence settled back in.

Ludwig didn't understand. Feliciano used to be so talkative, Ludwig could just listen and listen for hours without there being a break in conversation. Now, nothing.

"I should go to bed," Feliciano finally said.

Ludwig stood up. "Alright, let's go."

"Go where?"

Ludwig gave him a confused look. "To the bedroom? You used to sleep zere vith me. . ."

"Oh no, it's okay." Feliciano spread out on the couch.

"Alright zen. . ."

Feliciano smiled and curled up in Ludwig's makeshift bed. "Buenanotte."

Ludwig watched him. There wasn't any way he could sleep now, knowing that Feliciano was right there, even if he was acting different.

"Italy," Ludwig sat on the edge of the couch.

"Si?"

Ludwig met his eyes and gave in to temptation. He took Feliciano's face in his hand and kissed him.

Feliciano eased into it until suddenly pulling away. "No! No! What are you doing?!"

Ludwig felt as though he received a slap in the face- something he never would've expected from the affectionate Italian.

"I. . . I'm sorry."

"What about Russia?!"

Ludwig blinked, not expecting Ivan to have crossed Feliciano's mind at a time like this. "He doesn't matter, just because I'm his bitch-"

"I don't want to hear about your sex life!" Feliciano covered his ears.

"My sex life?" Ludwig laughed. "Vith Russia?"

"Si." Tears welled in Feliciano's eyes. "That's why I haven't visited, I thought you were with him. . . but I really missed you and didn't want it to be true. Remember when we said goodbye and we talked about that time I wrote you the letter about the dream I had where Russia and you were best friends, but you promised that that'd never happen? Then Romano tells me how Russia has become one with you and my heart just broke because. . ." he looked at Ludwig. "I love you."

"Italy," Ludwig said in amazement, "Russia und I are not together. At all. He just kinda. . . owns me now zat I lost ze var."

Feliciano sat up. "But you're not friends? Or anything more?"

"Nein." A smile creeped across Ludwig's features.

"Oh." He blushed.

"I've missed you, Italia." Ludwig wrapped an arm around his waist.

Feliciano traced his finger down Ludwig's jaw line. "I wanted to come."

"I know. It's been hard on both ends."

"I don't want to be without you anymore."

Ludwig kissed him. "You von't have to."

"Promise you'll visit?" Feliciano asked between kisses.

"Ja, I promise." Ludwig removed Feliciano's shirt.

Feliciano threw his arms around Ludwig's neck and pressed their lips together.

Ludwig unbuttoned Feliciano's pants and Feliciano in turn ripped off ludwig's black tank top, revealing his muscled chest.

"Will Russia mind?" Feliciano hesitated. "I don't want him to hurt you or be mad at me or-"

Ludwig pulled his curl, cutting off the Italian's speech. "I don't care vat Russia vill do to me for zis. All I know is it has been vay too long since I've had you in my arms und nothing is going to take you out of zem again."

Feliciano nodded, eyes wide and a smile on his face. "Germany?"

"Mhm?" Ludwig flipped him over.

Feliciano's eyes closed as Ludwig entered him. "Ti amo. . ." he breathed.

Ludwig bit his neck. "I love you too, Italia. Velcome back."


End file.
